


London Love Songs

by NotaDroid (mjonhunt)



Series: 200 [4]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Awkward Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:13:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25572640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mjonhunt/pseuds/NotaDroid
Summary: Following their disastrous Valentine's Day phone call, Spencer Reid decides to move to London to be closer to Emily.  Each chapter will be a different song title.
Relationships: Emily Prentiss/Spencer Reid
Series: 200 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1842463
Kudos: 14





	1. Who I'd Be

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to my story the Valentine's Day Massacre, which is part of my 200 series. Each chapter is based on a different song. This one is from Who I'd Be from the musical Shrek.

_Saturday, February 22, 2014_

_8:24pm London time_

_3.24pm Washington DC time_

After some texts back and forth following the disastrous call on Valentine's Day, Emily and Spencer managed to schedule time for a call between them.

"I'm sorry," Spencer said.

"I know. We both said some things we regret."

"I guess, we might not be good at doing this remotely."

"Maybe not," Emily said.

"What if we weren't doing it long distance?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what if we were living in closer proximity to each other?"

"Spencer, I know it sucks like this but, I like living in London. And I like working for INTERPOL."

"Oh no, I wasn't suggesting you move. I mean, what if I was living there?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm looking into taking a leave of absence."

"Spencer, I wouldn't want you to do that. That would be such a sacrifice."

"I'm not so sure. Blake reminded me that work will always be there. It's someone who makes us happy that's rare. So, I got a notebook and all week I wrote down every time you made me happy or inspired joy in me."

"So how long did that take? A minute?"

"I filled the entire notebook."

"What?"

"We've known each other for seven years, Emily. That's seven years of memories. Sometimes it was just remembering a time you smiled, or laughed, but I filled a 9.75" X 7.5" notebook with 192 pages of happiness and joy inspired by you. I think that's worth taking some time in England."

_Saturday, February 22, 2014_

_9:30pm London time_

Emily was sitting across from Dietrich Peterson in a pub.

"He says he's coming here."

"Who's coming," Dietrich asked.

"Spencer. Spencer Reid."

"Who's this again?"

Emily glared at him. "You know who he is."

"Not really."

"I got into a fight with him last week."

"Oh, the FBI loverboy. You two are still talking?"

"Yes, we're still talking. We apologized to each other."

"That's good."

"But he's coming here."

"For a visit? That's sweet."

"No, he's talking about taking a leave of absence from the FBI."

"To be here with you?"

"Yes."

"Does he mean it?"

"Of course, he means it. He doesn't just say things to say things."

"Men make promises they don't keep all the time. Especially to women."

"He doesn't."

Dietrich smiled. "And now your defending him."

"I'm stating facts."

"So, he's just going to take some time off to spend time with you?"

"What's so surprising about that?"

"Well, it's just you two got in a fight over the phone on Valentine's Day. That's not the kind of interaction that inspires confidence."

"Well, he says he filled an entire notebook of happiness and joy that I inspired."

"He did what?"

"He filled a notebook. He got one of those journal notebooks and wrote down every time I did something that made him happy."

"Since the two of you kissed?"

"No, she we met. And we've known each other for seven years."

"And he remembered every time you made him happy?"

"Yes."

"No one could do that."

"He can."

"Really? What does he have, a photographic memory?"

"Eidetic memory."

"Excuse me?"

"Eidetic memory. He remembers everything he reads, but he has a pretty strong memory for what he hears too."

"Wow."

"What do I do?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, he's taking a leave of absence to be with me. What do I do?"

"Give him a lap dance?"

"You are not being helpful."

"And you are being an idiot. A man you obviously have feelings for is coming to spend time with you and your first reaction is to freak out?"

"What if it doesn't work? He would have wasted a year of his life. I can't do that to him."

"What if it does work? You might to have be happy."

"I am not trying to be miserable."

"Good. Now let Prince Charming come and sweep you off your feet."

"But"

"Stop it. Stop getting hysterical and stop being afraid that you're going to ruin his life. He's coming for to see how many notebooks he can fill up dating you. Stop expecting the worst case scenario. I want to meet this guy."

"Why?"

"He's my hero. He's making the one move that can remove all of your excuses. He's a genius."

"That part you got right."

"Excuse me?"

"He's a genius. He has an IQ of 187."

"Of course he does."


	2. A Whole New World

_Saturday, March 22, 2014_

_8:24pm London time_

_3.24pm Washington DC time_

It was another Saturday, and Spencer was once again on the phone with Emily. Saturday was their scheduled weekly call.

"I applied for a fellowship at Oxford," he said.

"A fellowship?"

"I wasn't planning to just stay in London with nothing to do besides see you."

"I didn't say you were. I just didn't think about…I mean do you think you would be approved?"

"I'm pretty certain. I was invited to be a guest lecturer in their mathematics department a few years ago."

"Really?"

"I get job offers all the time. Usually I turn them down, but now I'm interested in anything in London."

"You don't have to you know. We can make it work long distance. We had one bad phone call, but we've been doing better ever since. We have a regularly scheduled weekly phone call, it's like date night."

"That is nice. But it's not the same as being there in person."

"We can schedule in person meetings. We just have to coordinate our leave and …"

"Why don't you want me to be there?"

"It's not that I don't want you to come here it's just … taking a year off just to be with me it's an awfully big sacrifice to make."

"Will relocated from New Orleans to be with JJ."

"After they had been dating for a year, after she was pregnant. We're just beginning this," she paused, searching for the right way to describe their current condition.

"Our romantic relationship? It's not like we just met, Emily. We've known each other for seven years. It's just that this particular phase of our relationship is new."

"I just…if things don't work out, I don't want to make you think that you wasted a year of your life."

"I appreciate your concern, but I don't view time spent with you as a waste, no matter how it turns out. Besides, it will be an interesting experiment."

"Oh?"

"What it will be like to not be flying all over the country or being on call all the time. Plus, the fellowship will give me the opportunity to do some research. It has the possibility of at least two or three journal articles. Add the opportunity to experience life in London, especially with a lovely tour guide, and anyway you look at it, it is a sure thing."

"I wish I could have your unbridled optimism."

"Well, there is a way, I think."

"Oh?"

"Try not to expect the worst case scenario."

"I don't have the best track record with relationships. I can't help but think that the problem is me."

"That's one way to think about it, I suppose. There is another possibility, however,"

"Oh?"

"Maybe you weren't with the right partner."

"That is an interesting theory. The truth is my longest relationship with a male is my cat. And we took a break for several months."

"You mean when you were pretending to be dead?"

"Yes."

"Well, technically I've known you longer than Sergio. Both us survived you pretending to be dead."

"True."

"Do you remember the compound in Colorado? Where we went in to question the children because there was a report of possible child-abuse."

"How could I forget it. The cult leader smacked me around after he found out I was an FBI agent."

"After you told him."

"I know."

"Do you remember what you told me on the jet afterwords?"

"It was my choice."

"Yes. This is my choice. I choose you. After working closely together for five years, I think I know you pretty well."

"Okay, now I do wish you were here. Or that I could at least see your face when you say things like that."

"I do miss seeing your eyes. They are so wondrously expressive. I mean, I can visualize them, but it isn't the same."

They were both quiet for a moment.

"I don't suppose," Emily said," we could try a video chat next week?"

"We could, if I owned a computer and not just a cellphone. "

She laughed," I figured as much."

"I suppose I could get one. Or maybe even a smartphone."

"Don't change for me, Spencer Reid. You stay as analog as you want to be. You could write me a letter, if you wanted to though."

"Oh?"

"Well, there is something magical about a letter. A physical envelope you open, with a piece paper you unfold and see lines of words hand-written. Depending on the stock of paper, you might be able to feel the impression the pen made on the paper."

Reid's breath audibly hitched as Emily spoke about letters. "What about…a package. With a journal inside."

"Journal?"

"A notebook, specifically."

She was perplexed for a moment, but a thought went across her brain and caused the corners of her mouth to move upwards in the beginning of a smile. "Would this be a notebook filled with writing?"

"Yes. I thought maybe you might like to see all the things I wrote about you – all the moments of joy you inspired."

"You certainly know how woo a lady."

"But if you want, I could start writing letters too. I mean, if you enjoy things like that."

She sighed. "There is definitely something magical about a tactile experience like holding a letter in your hand. You don't have the same connection to the other person when you read an email as when you read a letter."

"I always thought so."

* * *

_Wednesday, March 26, 2014_

_8:30 pm London time_

When Dietrich entered the pub, Emily was sitting at a booth reading a letter. When he sat down opposite her, she didn't look up from her letter when she said, "Hello."

"What is that?"

"It's a letter."

"I can see that. Why are you reading it here?"

"What's wrong with here?"

"Most people just read their mail at home."

Emily put down the letter, and Dietrich could see she was smiling. "Most people don't get letters like this."

"What is it, did you win something?"

"No, it's a letter from Spencer."

"Spencer?"

"My boyfriend."

"This is FBI guy?"

"Yes, FBI guy." Her smile got wider.

"What happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you didn't smile like this the last time we talked. He was just - Spencer Reid – you know -FBI guy." Dietrich rolled his eyes. "And today he's _my boyfriend,_ Spencer Reid. Why yes, he _is_ in the FBI." Dietrich fluttered his eyelids in mockery of Emily.

"Jealous?"

"I don't think he's my type," Dietrich deadpanned. "I just notice a complete transformation in your attitude towards him, and I'm curious as to why."

"I took your advice and stopped worrying."

"You never take my advice, so what actually happened?"

"He wrote me a letter."

"That's a little old-school. Why didn't he just send an email?"

"He doesn't have a personal email address."

"Excuse me?"

"Or a personal computer."

"He sounds like a crackpot."

"He's not. He's just not a huge fan of technology. His mother was a professor of Medieval Literature and he grew up liking old things. Like physical books, writing in journals, and letters."

"Letters?"

"Handwritten letters, like this one."

"And you like letters?"

"Yes." Her face lit up as she answered.

"What the hell is in that letter?"

"Him telling me about his day. How he's applying for a fellowship at Oxford, and the case he was on. It came with the journal he sent me."

"He sent you a journal?"

"I told you about it. About every memory of the past seven years that inspired joy."

"That's why you look like a lovesick schoolgirl."

"There is nothing sick about me. I thought I hurt him. I didn't always treat him nicely, and then he thought I was dead. When he found out I faked my death, he was pissed. Do know what he wrote in his journal though?"

"Your name should be Lazarus?"

"That when he thought I was dead, he missed me. He realized how much he looked forward to seeing me every day. He realized how he looked forward to seeing me smile. He is just the sweetest man alive."

"Goodbye sad, sulky Emily. Hello, Disney princess Emily."

"Bite me."

"Hey, I like this look on you. You actually look happy."

"I am happy."

"Good."


End file.
